He's Baaaaack

Hmmm, wow, it’s been a REALLY long time since I’ve written an entry.

Not sure exactly why that is. Probably any explanation would be an over-share. Even MisterT is wondering why I haven’t logged on. And, I can only tell him that it’s not for lack of evil MisterT material.

It’s because I really have too much to choose from.

Check it out:

MisterT and I fight over who should wash our dirt covered windows. I suggest the perfect solution: matchstick blinds. This makes MisterT really, really mad.

MisterT freaks out and blames me for dog fur he finds stuck to his socks.

(And, speaking of socks…) MisterT accuses me of some kind of subterfuge involving the quantity of clean but unmatched socks he discovers in the designated unmatched socks basket. MisterT is forced to try and mate the socks himself (the humanity!), resulting in a large quantity of matches but also STILL a large quantity of unmatched single socks. This causes yours truly to be subjected to a long, sad speech about the value of unmatched socks and how much they cost in the store (he estimated $25) and how, obviously, I am the cause of the unmated and now unusable socks. [It should be noted that MisterT, at any given time, has enough socks in his sock drawer to outfit a platoon. Apparently, this is no where near enough.]

MisterT spends large amounts of time criticizing my management of our Netflix movie queue. When a movie is not to his liking, I am grilled on the why’s and wherefore’s of how that particular movie ended up in our DVD player and how I could have possibly had the nerve to subject his highness to such a thing. He expects me to defend these less than optimal movie choices as if I were in the witness box and under cross examination in a murder trial. Enjoyable movies elicit no comment.

MisterT bought a new washer and dryer. They are very nice appliances in which I can wash MisterT’s unmatched socks. MisterT expends a great deal of time and energy threatening me with all manner of medieval tortures should I have the nerve to drip laundry detergent on their pristine white surfaces. I do a few loads of laundry and several times catch MisterT prowling about the laundry closet searching for telltale blue drips. When he doesn’t find any, he launches into a long one-person dialog on the state of the washer and dryer I owned and used during the years we dated. He concludes by saying they looked like they were shat out of the ass of a syphilitic yak. [It should be noted that he didn’t begin commenting on the state of my pre-marital appliances until after we were in fact wed.]

It is for these reasons, and a few thousand others, that I can no longer ignore the preferences of my readers who, by a slim majority of 80%, prefer that MisterT be referred to by his rightful and original name of “Satan”. Even my grandmother, I learned this weekend, prefers Satan (she thinks “Lucifer” is much, much scarier).

Lest you think I’m uncaring, I’ve ordered Satan four packages of these from my best good friends at The Container Store.

I’ll leave it to your imagination where they might be placed upon receipt.

Just a Picture

Enjoying an organic summer with a little help from my friend.

Pet of the Month

This is Christine and Molly.

That's Molly in the foreground. The photo was taken for a newsletter I'm producing. Believe it or not, I snapped thirty six pictures of Molly, all but maybe three of which came out as a big, furry blur. Molly don't sit still for long. This was the only acceptable photo I was able to snap. Fortuntely, I really love the image.

Dinner Conversation

We had dinner with MisterT's son, David, who is going off to college this fall. Since he is pre-med, we spent a good deal of dinner calculating how long it would be until we could actually quit our day jobs, move in with him, and spend all day sitting on our necks watching The Sundance Channel and looking forward to the free medical treatment we will receive for the oozing neck sores we will no doubt develop.

I, personally, also spent some time dropping delicately couched, subtle hints as to the type of medicine David should probably practice i.e., “DUDE, a little brow lift here, a little liposuction there, I can’t hold on much longer…”

David remains, as always, unmoved by my plight.

He has, however, internalized my own personal “drinking rules” that I have lived by, lo, these many years. When the subject of wild nekkid liquor parties came up, he was to his credit, actually able to recite the rules based on a short seminar that I gave him at the beginning of the summer.

You, too, can avoid many an embarrassing situation if you live by these simple drinking rules:

-Do not drink (or “do”) shots. Ever.

-Do not play drinking games of any kind i.e., Quarters, beer bongs, etc.

-Do not “switch up”. This means do not start out drinking beer, then switch to, say, Tequila. You CAN, however “switch down”. Start out drinking Tequila and then switch to beer.

-Do not drink and drive or RIDE WITH anyone drinking and driving.

I give you this wisdom free of charge.

An Inconvenient Movie

The face that launched the Eva Walker

Rosy, etc.

Independence Day

Happy Fourth of July to you! I hope wherever you are you are cool, happy, and enjoying this holiday.

I was pleasantly surprised this morning to find the above flower blooming prettily among my English daisy seedlings. After a little on-line research, I learned the red bloom is most certainly NOT an English daisy. I do think it is a rogue petunia that has seeded itself from points unknown. I am certain neither MisterT or myself bought petunia seeds. A similar vine has sprung up in my sago palm. Must be the wind.

This site was nearly overwhelmed by the four voters who stampeded in to participate in my online poll on renaming MisterT. As expected the result, THUS FAR, is 75%, Satan, 25%, Lucifer. If you are inclined to vote, and my bandwidth holds up, feel free to visit my last post and log your preference. Time is running out!

***

Update: I'm editing this post to add, HOLY COW, I've received an additional TWO votes since writing earlier. Check it:


ReNaming MisterT
So, tell me, what's a BETTER name for Mister T?
Beelzebub (1)
17%
Lucifer (1)
17%
Mr. Peepers (0)
0%
Sorry, it has to be Satan. (4)
67%
Total Votes: 6

Don't let the voting pass you by!

The long weekend

Greetings and salutations all, I'm knee-deep into a blissfully long holiday weekend!

I've thus far had the priviledge of hosting no less than three great girlfriends on the balcony. Unfortunately, I only had the presence of mind to break out the camera for two of them. I blame the adult beverages.

I don't have long to write today, but here's a quick update:

-Still considering Drastic Action C.

-I have secured a real world writing gig. This could cut down significantly on the fun and games at this here blog, but I'm going to try and keep up!

-The controversy relating to my re-naming of the spouse here rages on. Still, no one likes "MisterT". And I do mean NOBODY. At a marathon girlfriend lunch on Friday it was decided that, if possible, I should take a poll here.

And, despite the fact that I am the self-proclaimed Walter Brennen of Internet Technology, CHECK IT OUT:




Take My Poll